the sunrise I did not see
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: *AU* Lily Evans has never seen a sunrise in her life, because she was born totally blind. But this won't stop the eleven year old from dreaming of attending a special school in Scotland.


"_You are not weak, just because your heart feels so heavy."-Andrea Gibson_

…

In eleven years, she has never seen a sunset. Or a sunrise. Or seen the bright plumage of the noisy, singing birds that gather outside of her window as though Lily is in some sort of Disney movie, like Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty.

She had not seen her sister's blonde hair, done up in curls for her first day of school, nor had Lily ever seen the dark, scratching hair of her father's beard. She had never seen her own eyes, which Lily's mother insisted were bright green, like grass.

Because Lily Evans had been blind for eleven years, from the second she was born; she had never seen a thing in her whole entire life, instead learning to navigate through the world with the help of a white cane and her mother's helping hand on Lily's back.

And yet, though she had never even seen the freckles on that covered her arms and hands, Lily knew they were there, because her father had kissed each and every one just before sending her off to bed. Though she had never seen the bright rays of a first light, she knew its warmth.

But knowing that there was a whole big world on all four sides of Lily did not make up for the fact that she could not see it. It was simply just not enough to _know _that there was a world around her; she wanted to see it, to explore the grandness of a world that stretched on forever.

More importantly, Lily wanted to no longer be blind, a thought that occurred to her as she laid curled up on the couch as her mother whispered the contents of a letter sent from a special school in Scotland that promised that she would be no different from any other student attending.

_Dear Miss Evans_, the letter began, already making promises that a letter had no power to keep, no matter how much it wanted to or how much Lily begged for her every dream to come true. But the letter began _Dear Miss. Evans_, and she already knew that broken promises were her only future.

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

There was a second page, Lily could hear her mother's fingers as they pressed on the paper, crumpling the formal parchment, but, though Lily reached out to tap the second, her way of telling Mrs. Evans to keep on reading, her mother only sighed, never a good sign.

"It just doesn't seem wise to get your hopes up, Lily," Mrs. Evans said quietly, as a strange woman, the Professor McGonagall from the letter, waited patiently, sitting on the other side of the table. "Obviously sending you all the way to _Scotland_, even for a school as special…it simply just wouldn't work out."

"Unfortunately, your mother _does _have a point, Miss Evans," said the professor, whose voice gave Lily the image of a harsh, sharp-faced woman with strict eyes. "Hogwarts simply just isn't equipped to handle students of your condition. It is a castle, with staircases that move and many other dangers-"

"But I _want _to go, Mum," Lily replied, turning to her mother, reaching out to feel the letter once more. "I _want _to go and learn how to do magic and how to be a witch. I want to go I want to be like all the other students who'll get to learn spells and stuff."

"Oh, honey," Mrs. Evans sighed again, patting her daughter's knee. Lily could hear the sorrow in her voice. "I'm really sorry. It's just that you aren't _like_ the other kids. It wouldn't be safe for you, and we don't want you getting hurt. That's all this is. We're looking out _for_ you."

"I promise, Mum, I'll be _fine_! I can handle myself; after all, I get on and off the bus every day with no problem. I get around the primary school easily. Why can't I go to this Hogwarts place, when it's so obviously where I belong?" Lily begged, turning to where she could hear the Professor shifting awkwardly in her seat. "_Please_, I know belong at this school, I know I do."

"I really am sorry, Miss Evans," the professor said, though Lily didn't get the feeling she entirely meant it. She could just imagine the pitying look on the woman's face, though, because it was the exact sort of look she had gotten from countless other people once they realised that Lily was blind. It was the pity of someone who knew they were going to have to crush her dreams.

"Everyone always says they're sorry," the girl replied sourly. "They _always _say they're sorry, like somehow that's going to help, but it never does! Sorry doesn't let me go to a normal school, or to Hogwarts! Sorry doesn't let me go to the cinema with my mates and enjoy the latest film! Sorry doesn't give me my sight back! So why does everyone say _sorry _like it means something?!"

"Lily!" Mrs. Evans cried, and Lily knew her mother was frowning down at her, displeased, as she always was whenever Lily acted out. "You know better than to say such things, it's very rude of you. Now, please, we are just trying to have an adult conversation between the three of us, but if you can't control yourself, then I suppose you can just go wait in the sitting room for Professor McGonagall and I to finish our discussion."

Lily got up with a scowl, running her hands over the kitchen counter tops as she left in order to make sure she knew where she was going. As she left, the girl grabbed something at random, only noticing that it was cold and made of metal, as well as being cylindrical in shape. She was tempted to chuck the item at her mother's head, but instead slumped into the sitting room.

Falling onto the couch with tears stinging her eyes, Lily allowed her fingers to dance across the item in her hands, determining that the item she had grabbed was nothing more than one of the old brass candlesticks her mother had bought a few weeks ago at a yard sale for "aesthetic purposes". It was large and heavy in her hands, so she set it down next to her on the couch.

Just then, the family's pet, a cat that Petunia had named Snug, jumped onto the couch with Lily. She could feel his face rubbing up against her jumper, getting his long, itchy fur all over her; Snug wasn't supposed to be on the couch, but Lily was too upset to bother pushing him off. She sniffled, petting Snug's fur in order to calm down.

"It's just not fair," she whispered to the cat sullenly. "Just because I can't see, Mum seems to think that I'm totally useless, and she makes everyone else think I'm useless as well. I can function just fine on my own, I don't _need _her hovering over me. I'm blind, not a helpless baby, but she doesn't see it that way. Mum seems to think that, if I'm left on my own for too long, I'll get hurt."

Lily bent over to hug the cat, who only swiped harmlessly at her collarbone before resettling in the eleven year old's lap once more. Lily wondered if the image of the Snug she had in her head matched the way he really looked. The image of Snug that she had in her head had long, silvery fur and a squashed, grumpy looking face, considering how much time he spent meowing.

She leaned over slightly to grab the candlestick once more, turning it over in her hands, letting the cold bite of the metal sink into her fingers. It just wasn't _fair_, it really wasn't. Why did being blind mean that the world treated her so differently? What did not being able to see have to do with her potential ability to perform magic? But, even if Lily did feel this way (which she did), it was really up to the two women in the kitchen as to whether or not Lily would be allowed to attend Hogwarts.

"Lily?" her mother called from the kitchen, and Lily heard the sound of people getting up and moving towards her. Lily pushed Snug off her lap and set the candlestick aside (head still filled with the desire to smack someone across the face with it until she got her way) before getting up to meet her mother and Professor McGonagall. Lily could almost feel the disappointment rolling off of the two adults, and before the professor even spoke, Lily knew what was happening.

"Unfortunately, it has been deemed _much _too dangerous for you to attend a school like Hogwarts, Miss Evans. With the moving staircases and the large scale of the school, it would be very close to impossible for you to properly navigate without eyes, not to mention the use of spells could be seen as dangerous for someone who cannot see the results of what they are casting," Professor McGonagall said, and Lily's shoulders slumped. "While we would _love _for you to attend, it just isn't practical at this time."

"You understand, don't you, Lily?" her mother said in a forceful voice, slipping one arm around her daughter's shoulder and giving it a tight squeeze to emphasise her point. "You're very reasonable, now that you're eleven years old, aren't you, Lily? Professor McGonagall has done all she can to find any possible way to make it safe for you to attend this Hogwarts, but the truth of the matter is that it just wouldn't work out, no matter how we try."

Lily stood there, head swarming with images of what might have been; attending class with her mates, learning how to cast spells, sitting atop a broom as she hovered above the grassy yard. She imagined running up and down the halls, screaming in joy, because for once, she was _free_ to do what she wanted, and being blind meant absolutely nothing.

"I suppose I understand," is what she said, because Lily had bright, colourful dreams inside of her head, but the truth of the matter was that she was blind and her mother was too afraid to let Lily go out and be her own person. "I guess, since you're the adults, you're making the wisest and most appropriate decision on my behalf," she said, willing herself to keep from crying as the dreams of going off to Scotland to become a witch quickly melted away.

"I'm glad you're being so reasonable, Lily," Mrs. Evans said, pulling her daughter in for a hug, forcing the eleven year old to be squished against her mother's chest as she wondered if there would ever come a time when she would be allowed to go out and live life the way _she _wanted to. "Lily is very mature and reasonable for her age, of course," Mrs. Evans said to Professor McGonagall when she finally released Lily from her death grip.

"I can see that," the professor replied as Lily recalled the noise that the birds had made outside her window this morning, the birds whom she had never seen. "She seems very responsible," the professor said as Lily remembered running her brush through her hair that morning, wondering what bright red looked like. "It's a shame she cannot join us," the professor stated as Lily let a tear roll down her cheek, recalling the warmth of the sunrise that she had not gotten to see that morning.

Because she was blind and because of it, she was forgotten.


End file.
